


Keys

by Somekindofflower



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Lovers to Friends, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofflower/pseuds/Somekindofflower
Summary: Throughout the years, Luka and Abby pass keys back and forth, over and over. It's hard to let each other in and equally hard to keep each other out.





	Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Impulsive one-shot alert! Please read with the caution that there may be errors due to writing and posting fairly quickly.

The first time a key passes between them, Luka hands Abby his extra hotel room key card.

“Here, uh, you get off before I do, why don’t you go to my place and let yourself in?”

He barely looks at her as he says it. The next morning, he simply says “Keep it,” and continues shaving.

It’s so casual that she thinks he doesn’t recognize the significance of what he’s saying, that it’s merely convenience. It’s a couple years before she realizes he was fully aware.

Abby tries to mirror his nonchalance when she gives him an extra key to her place a little while after that. She doesn’t understand him yet. He’s a mystery to her, and she doesn’t know why she wants to figure him out so badly, but she does. She wants him to let her in. It’s hard to pull off the casual handoff, when it’s to the first home that’s ever been solely hers, but she must, because he pauses and thanks her and that’s that.

By the time he moves into an apartment, he hands her the first key he pulls out of the envelope, before claiming one for himself. She’s not sure what to think. He accidentally smudges a thumbprint with the paint they’d picked out for his bedroom when he goes to dispose of the empty paint can, and she develops a habit of running her thumb over it whenever she contemplates him. Them. His heart is still a mystery, and she needs to pull away to protect her own. He hints at her moving in, but it’s too late. She’s fortified the walls around her heart to keep him out. It’s too late for that, too.

The key slams down on the green counter after she collects the last of her things. She doesn’t look at it, but the thought of that smudge makes her heart twinge with regret. He sneakily slips his key into her purse without comment, so she doesn’t know it’s there until she finds it when she’s searching for a mint. It shouldn’t piss her off, but it does, because it shouldn’t hurt. She doesn’t care that much. She can’t.

Somehow, after they breakup, they carve out a friendship. Or, rather, they’re surprised to find that they already have one underneath it all. When she needs sanctuary, he offers, and she (eventually) accepts. When he hands her key to her, she sees it really is _her_ key, and it feels right to slip it back onto her keyring. She tells herself not to think about who else might have used her key in the meantime. Luka’s place, his life, him, it’s all so comfortable and familiar, and it’s exactly what she needs. Too much so.

There’s disappointment in his eyes when she tells him it’s time for her to move back into her apartment. Instead of fighting it, he goes with her, insists on changing the locks himself as she cleans out her fridge and cleans up the mess that’s sat there for too long. He tells her it’s for his own peace of mind, so she allows it. Plus, she won’t tell him, but his presence keeps the scary memories at bay.

While they’re eating pizza, she reaches out to hand him her key. He doesn’t take it.

“Why don’t you keep it, in case you need it?”

“I don’t want to intrude, Luka, or cramp your style. I need to be here.” And she does, because if that possibility is there, she’s afraid she’ll take it.

When he leaves, he eyes her closely, seeing the fear that she’s trying to conceal.

“Call if you need me, okay? You can always come back, or I can be here in fifteen minutes if you need me to.”

Abby hugs him then, nearly losing herself in the strong, solid comfort of him wrapped around her, and she has to make herself let go. He’s too tempting. She’s starting to feel like she needs him, but she can’t let herself need anyone. People she needs always let her down.

“Lock the door behind me, okay?”

She rolls her eyes indulgently, but does so. When she wakes at three and can’t will her heart to stop racing and her mind to stop spinning out of control, she goes to the living room and ends up staring at that shiny, sturdy lock. Flopping onto the couch, she decides to try to sleep out there, she sees something on her coffee table. It’s her key, on top of a torn out piece of notebook paper.

“Just in case,” the note reads, in Luka’s slanted handwriting, and her throat constricts as she runs her finger over the thumbprint.

After she gets together with Carter, things between her and Luka pretty much go to hell. It stings much more than it should, watching Luka with other women, ignoring his occasional sarcastic comments to her. Things with Carter are fine. Maybe even good. But every now and then, she’ll catch sight of that key, the thumbprint and that _just in case_ taunting her. By all rights, she ought to give it back, but this Luka is different, jagged and dark, and she doesn’t want to make things worse. After the disaster that is Christmas, though, she makes herself stick it in an envelope that she tapes to his locker. The note she tucks inside simply says “I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t take very long. Carter and she aren’t doing well, each falling short of the other’s expectations. Everything with Eric and Carter’s grandmother snowballs and it’s all too much, and for a moment, she finds herself alone with Luka, wishing she could take him up on that _just in case_. But she’s not that girl. Then, he leaves.

Then, he_ dies._

A few days in, she’s not sure how many, Frank sends her up to Kerry’s office. Kerry asks how she’s doing, and Abby briefly notes that she herself looks pained. Abby claims to be fine, though they both know that isn’t the truth. She hasn’t left the hospital. She can’t, because once she leaves, this nice cloud of denial will lift and she might fall apart.

“Luka left this with me before he went.” She hands Abby an envelope. “The Alliance has all of them designate someone to take care of things in case—well, in case what happened happens.”

It’s the same envelope she’d given him, and inside is her key. The same paper is tucked inside as well, only he’s added a note below her own.

“I’m sorry, too.”

There’s a pen mark after, like he’d started to sign and thought better of it, as if he didn’t know how to sign off. She feels the weight of the key in her palm, and tries not to think about what it means, about sorting his things, boxing them up, shipping them to Croatia. She tries not to think about the key that she made Carter give back, the key she gave back to him, and the fact that she’s fairly certain that even if they were still fully together (are they together at all?), she wouldn’t be his designated survivor.

She looks down then and traces the thumbprint. A teardrop falls on it and she realizes she’s crying, all the tears she’s held back since Carter took off after him coming out at once. Kerry’s arm comes around her and Abby tries like hell to stop.

“Oh, honey. I’m off, let’s get you home.”

Weaver doesn’t take no for an answer, and Abby’s both grateful and resentful for how caring she’s being. It makes her wonder if this is what Luka sees in her, if it’s why he likes her even though they’re often at odds. She can’t ask, and that makes it worse.

The days keep passing, and before she can work up the courage to go to Luka’s place, they get the call, the one everyone wants but no one ever gets. He’s alive after all. She goes home, locks the lock that he installed, and bursts into tears for a second time.

The elation of his return is dampened by the sight of his companion, but it still keeps her floating, and carries her through her return to med school and rotations. They’re friends again, finally, and that can be enough.

Then Luka and Sam get together. Abby keeps hoping and waiting for it to be like before, for the fling to be over, for him to _see _her again, but it doesn’t end. He goes to bring Sam and Alex home when they run away. Abby finally tells herself she has to accept it. There’s no just in case anymore. He leaves his keys on the lounge table one day, and she slips her key back on the ring and wishes she could give her heart back as easily.

She keeps wishing that for a long time, even tries to give her heart to someone else, but it’s no use. Suddenly, long after she’s given up hope, he’s there, responding to her again. She reaches out, knowing that even if they can’t be together, the walls protecting her heart are gone, and she wants whatever she can have. Even if that’s only to cheer him up.

It works, far more quickly than she thought it could. They’re friends again, but better than before. Abby’s trying harder than she ever has to be there for him, and he’s trying in return. One night, they plan to go to dinner after a long shift, but he gets caught up with a patient. He takes her aside, probably, she thinks, to cancel. Instead, he hands her a key. _Her _key. He doesn’t have time to do more than ask her to head over without him before he’s whisked away.

Later that evening, after they’ve stuffed themselves with pizza, she knows she ought to leave. She gets up and pulls the key from her pocket to give back to him. He shakes his head.

“Keep it. Just—“ He looks down. “Just in case.”

She stares at him for a long minute, but his face is inscrutable.

“Well, it _is_ my key. So, okay.” She tries to stop herself from saying more, but curiosity gets the better of her. “I kind of thought you would have given it to Sam.”

His eyes snap up to her face then. “No!” His cheeks turn red and her heart speeds up at the sight. “No, I wouldn’t…I gave her a different one.”

“Oh.” She has no right to feel as relieved as she does.

The morning after Neela and Michael’s wedding, he goes to get them breakfast from the nearby deli and locks the door behind him without thinking. As she lets him in, bleary-eyed and messy-haired in her bathrobe, she grabs a key and hands it to him.

“Keep it. For next time.”

Much as she wishes he would use words, the shine in his eyes as he loops it onto his keychain is enough.

The first time she uses the key without him asking her to, she’s nervous but excited. She almost cooks something but decides against it. She hates cooking, he knows it, and she doesn’t have to pretend for Luka.

When he comes in, she’s emptying take-out Chinese onto two plates, and he looks gobsmacked. She’s nervously biting her lip, but his fierce gaze burns into her as he practically flies across the room and swoops her up. The island turns out to be highly convenient, even when they’re not cooking at all.

More and more nights are spent at his place, until it’s really their place, even if they don’t label it as such. Neela’s staying at hers and Abby’s things come over a little at a time until almost everything is there. Then, their son is there, and that’s it. It’s home. Or, rather, Luka is.

She almost loses him to death again, and that is the straw that breaks her last, stubborn defense. She tells him to ask and he does. Then he surprises her with a wedding. One which, despite her initial protest, she loves. It’s unconventional and spontaneous, and he’s right—it’s past time. Seven years is more than plenty and she’s long past the point of no return where he’s concerned.

But is he? He has to go help his father, and a couple weeks turns into a couple months, which turns into half a year. She hasn’t heard his key in the lock forever, and she’s starting to wonder if this is really _her _place now instead of theirs. Joe gets hurt, she can’t reach Luka, and it’s all too much. She falls headfirst into the bottle. She falls fast and so hard, and before she knows it, she’s ruined the best thing in her life.

The next key she gets is to a cold, white room with an uncomfortable twin bed in a rehab facility. She aches, she aches, she aches, but she has to do this to get better. So she can get back to Luka and to Joe and make things right.

She gets out and he won’t let her in. Oh, he lets her into his brother’s house in Croatia, lets her into their apartment, but he’s shutting her out of his heart and it hurts more than she can fathom, but she knows she deserves it.

She doesn’t get a key to his new place. Not even just in case.

She’s got herself back together, Joe is more than enough reason not to drink. For that matter, she herself is enough of a reason. But she’d hoped that Luka would love her enough, in spite of everything, and her heart is breaking because it turns out he might not.

A month later, she’s sitting on the couch with her sprained ankle propped up on the coffee table, when she hears the key in the lock again. He struggles with the last box of things from his apartment before coming to sit by her and put his arm around her.

“I gave the landlord the keys back.” He kisses her trembling lips. “For good.”

It feels weird to hand him this key in person and have him keep it. He’s going to drop their keys off while she works her last shift at County. Luka must see her hesitation, because he gives her a sad smile.

“We’re not leaving the memories, Abby. Just going somewhere to start over and make new ones.”

She nods, willing the tears not to fall. “Together.” She means to state it, but it comes out like a question anyway.

“Together.” He kisses her and holds her tight as she takes a last look around the apartment, but this isn’t how she wants to remember it, full of boxes and bare walls. “I’ll pick you up tonight and we’ll get on the road.”

“Okay.” She gives the key a last glance, but caresses Luka’s actual thumb instead.

Saying goodbye is hard, even when it feels right. She’ll miss it all, but she’s taking the most important things County’s given her to Boston.

They have a house there, one with an actual yard, one that has both their names on the mortgage. One that’s _theirs_ and only theirs.

Moving sucks enough that she doesn’t ever want to do it again. Joe’s sleep is all thrown off, and so is hers, worrying as she is about their new schedules and Joe adjusting, her new job with more responsibility and less of a safety net, and her still lingering concerns about their marriage and all that they need to work through. Luka has promised they will go to couples’ therapy as soon as they find someone who sounds good as well as reliable childcare for Joe. They’re both trying so hard, and she finds that though they need to work through things, it’s not hard at all to believe they’ll work it out.

She kisses Joe goodbye and grabs her travel mug of coffee, searching for her keys. Luka taps her and hands them to her.

“Thanks. Bye.” She turns her face up for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” They say it more now, needing that reassurance whenever they part. She’d feared it would make it feel ordinary, but it hasn’t worn out yet.

As she grabs her purse, she looks down at the keys and sees a bit of yellow on one. Inspecting it, she finds there’s a thumbprint on it, in the same yellow that they’d painted their room. She whirls around to hug him again, lingering in his arms as he kisses her head. She’s home.


End file.
